


Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

by mahbbys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Related, Dean Feels, Fallen Castiel, Ficlet, Holding Hands, Lonely Dean, M/M, Rain, Requited Love, Sad Dean, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:03:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbbys/pseuds/mahbbys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...Dean doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to be thinking of Cas. "I need you, Cas." Dean hears his own words echo in his head like some kind of incantation...</p><p> </p><p>When the ache for his angel gets to be too much, Dean winds up sitting alone in a storm, not knowing what else to do with himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

It’s an early spring storm, brewing hard and blowing in fast. The air is muggy and electrified, but there’s a hint of cool to the rain and the wind feels like it will erode everything in its path. 

Dean is half sitting on the edge of the hood of the Impala. The wind gusts so hard sometimes his broad frame sways, and he keeps having to squint against the wind and occasional drops of rain. 

Dean’s wearing a leather jacket he found in a second hand store somewhere on the road. He still doesn’t know why he bought it. Old time’s sake, he supposes. He’s thinking about the jacket, trying to decide why he felt the need to pick it up, because it keeps him from thinking about what he’s doing. Why he’s sitting out here like a lost puppy, like he doesn’t know enough to get inside somewhere and out of the coming rain.

There’s a nearly full moon and it’s illuminating everything in blue when the clouds aren’t passing in front of it. Dean keeps scanning for stars, but of course he doesn’t see any.

Cas doesn’t know he’s here, outside this abandoned house where Cas is squatting for a few days. Doing whatever it is he’s been doing since Dean has been working with Sam again. Dean wonders briefly if he’s sleeping, but down deep he knows that he isn’t. The borrowed grace has put a stop to that. Cas is an angel again, of a sort. Just...not his angel, not any more.

Dean’s face contorts from acting as a levee for the emotions swirling in his mind. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should be at home in the bunker. He should be on a case. He should be anywhere but outside a falling down house in the middle of the night with a storm coming. He should be anywhere but sitting and watching blackened windows, aching for a fallen angel.

Dean doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to be thinking of Cas, he doesn’t want to be _wanting_ Cas. But he doesn’t know what else to do. He keeps putting miles under his tires and whiskey into his belly and nothing, not a bit of it, does him any good. _I need you, Cas._ Dean hears his own words echo in his head like some kind of incantation.

The storm’s getting closer, the wind is whipping the trees and the sound is loud. If Cas doesn’t want him, won’t see him… Dean closes his eyes tight. Cas would let him in, though. All he has to do is knock.

But Dean doesn’t knock, because he knows he doesn’t deserve to be let in. It only makes sense for him to be alone, in the rain, waiting for the storm to blow him away like a withered leaf, turning him to dust. Cas would let him in because he’s Cas. Not because he wants - _needs_ \- Dean the same way Dean wants and needs him.

So he just keeps watching. Trying not to think of how empty his arms feel, how empty his fucking chest feels. He tries to focus on the white noise of the wind, the dancing arcs of unseen energy that crackle in the clouds above his head.

He’s praying before he realizes what he’s doing. He’d kept praying even after Cas fell, and knowing that Cas couldn’t hear had weakened his walls. So he’s admitting things he doesn’t plan to be admitting and he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

_I gotta do something, Cas. If I...If I can’t have you, if I can’t lo….I don’t wanna be wanting something I can’t have, Cas. I’ve done that all my life, you’d think I’d be used to it. But when that something is you, man? I just...I don’t know what to do. I’m tired of this ache. I just wish I could turn it off, ya know? I need your help, Cas. I need...I need **you.**_

Dean’s slid off the hood and is silenting making his way towards the driver side door. He’s sighing heavily, feeling hollow.

“Dean?”

Dean’s eyes fly up, and there’s Cas a few feet away. He’s in that ridiculous new trenchcoat and his hair is windswept and his star-blue eyes are narrowed and he’s got that damn head tilt and fuck, what is Dean supposed to do with these blades that cut at his veins every time he sees that face now? Dean swallows, but doesn’t say anything.

“Dean,” Cas says, softer this time, but maybe Dean’s just imagining it. “Come inside,” Cas whispers and suddenly Dean’s hand is wrapped inside a warmer hand and he’s being led towards the front door.

“Cas…” Dean croaks, but Cas places his other hand on Dean’s shoulder and just gives him a small smile.

“I told you before, Dean - though I had begun to disbelieve it myself - that good things do happen.”

Dean frowns and starts to say something more, but Cas’ thumb is suddenly brushing against his lips and all the electricity in the air cannot begin to compare to the sparks that Dean feels through his body at the touch. “I need you, too, Dean.”  


**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by "Watching You" by Melissa Etheridge and by feeling all angsty and mopey while sick. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
